


The Dark that is the Void

by SherLockedAt221B



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bromance, FIx It, Gen, Hospitals, S04 E01 The Six Thatchers, Sherlock Whump, season 4 fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 16:36:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13594092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherLockedAt221B/pseuds/SherLockedAt221B
Summary: 'So, it is true that the brain can speed up it's perception in dangerous situations.' Sherlock thought idly as the bullet sped forwards in slow motion. 'Funny, I always doubted that theory.'He wasn’t frightened, per se, but something was nagging at his brain; tapping insistently at the back of his skull and refusing to go away.What was it? It had to be something.Wait a minute...Mary.Mary!Must protect Mary!Snapping out of his mind palace, Sherlock dived towards Mary. The whole procedure had only taken a few moments, but time was of the essence!A season/series 4 fix it for The Six Thatchers.





	The Dark that is the Void

**Author's Note:**

> Thank my insomnia for this, again. At least it’s not as bad as the first one.  
> Still not entirely happy with this, and I doubt I ever will be. Oh well...

Stop time for just one moment. Stop time and think about that one moment that just passed.

  
There are infinite possible outcomes, infinite things that could happen if the conditions are right.

  
A star could go nova. A blood clot could settle in your brain and kill you. An asteroid could burn up in the sky above you. A fly could settle on that wall. In short, there are many things that could change the course of history.

  
Every moment is a crossroads, every action a chosen path.

  
Just take a moment and think of all the paths that lead off from it. So many paths, ways... one chosen path can change your whole life.

  
"Vivianne Norbury. You outsmarted then all... all except Sherlock Holmes. There's no way out." Sherlock took a small step forwards towards the woman in front of him.

  
"So it would seem." Norbury gulped silently. "You've seen right through me Mr. Holmes."

  
"It’s what I do."

  
"Maybe I can still surprise you." Norbury's head tilted to one side in an almost nonchalant way, and within a split second a gun was in her hand and pointed straight towards the world's only Consulting Detective.

  
"Now come on, be sensible!" Lestrade backed away as Sherlock half-raised his hands.

  
"No, I don’t think so." The woman said in an almost matter of fact way, then squeezed at the trigger.

  
The ear-splitting bang echoed throughout the entire aquarium, making the even the ground tremble from it's force.

  
 _So, it is true that the brain can speed up it's perception in dangerous situations._ Sherlock thought idly as the bullet sped forwards in slow motion. _Funny, I always doubted that theory._

  
He wasn’t frightened, per se, but something was nagging at his brain; tapping insistently at the back of his skull and refusing to go away.  
What was it? It had to be something.

  
Wait a minute...

  
Mary.

  
Mary!

  
Must protect Mary!

  
Snapping out of his mind palace, Sherlock dived towards Mary. The whole procedure had only taken a few moments, but time was of the essence!

  
Suddenly Sherlock impacted with a body much sooner than he expected, and time suddenly zoomed back to normal speed.

  
A searing pain ripped it's way through Sherlock's collarbone area and he gasped involuntarily as he tumbled to the floor in a heap along with John's wife.

  
"Sherlock!" John’s voice echoed throughout the aquarium, and many hurried footsteps sounded from all around.

  
Voices shouted and hands grabbed and pressed warning a wince of pain from the already half-conscious detective.

  
"No, stay with me! Stay awake!" Ah. John.

  
Mary began to pull herself to her feet from beneath him, and Sherlock smiled internally.  
He had done it. He had protected her. Surely he had earned a bit of sleep...

  
Sorry, John. Was the last thing Sherlock thought before he slipped into the dark, the dark that is void.

  
#

  
Beep.

  
Beep.

  
Beep.

  
Sherlock's brain felt like cotton wool. Stupid, really, how can a brain feel like cotton wool? You don’t have any nerve endings in your brain. But still, counter to all sane logic, Sherlock's brain most definitely felt like thick, soft, furry cotton wool.

  
Despite his brain's not entirely functioning state, Sherlock could easily deduce his location.

Hospital.

  
Through the fuzzy fog in his half-functional mind palace, he jotted down a note to get out as soon as possible.

  
Despite his desire to leave the area as soon as possible, Sherlock spent a few minutes simply waiting for the fog to clear a little. What good was he half drugged?

  
Right. Next priority, find John. Sherlock exited the Palace and proceeded to bully his transport into opening it's eyes. It opened them a little then snapped shut again as the bright hospital lights burned into them.

  
Once he had managed to get them open a little way, Sherlock looked about.

  
John was snoring heavily in the chair next to him, his head rested on the bed beside Sherlock's left arm.

  
Okay then. Arm, lift.

  
I said lift!

  
Sherlock could have growled if his transport was working properly, but unfortunately it wasn’t. Probably drugs.

  
Okay then, mouth! Speak. Now.

  
"Chn" A nasty rasp came out of Sherlock's dry throat. It was then that he realised how thirsty he was. "Chn" he repeated, unable to put much life into the sound.

  
John stirred a little, then sat up with a jerk. Mission accomplished.

  
"Sherlock, you’re awake!" Trust you to state the obvious, John.

  
"'Tr." Sherlock's transport made a feeble attempt to speak. His throat did feel so bad.

  
"What?"

  
"A'ter."

  
"Oh, water!" John reached for the table next to the ed and picked up a cup of water. He placed the straw on Sherlock's lips gently and Sherlock drank gratefully.

  
"How are you feeling?" He asked when Sherlock had finished.

  
"Like I've been shot." Sherlock muttered dryly. "'S Mary alright?"

  
"Oh! I forgot!" John exclaimed. "She’ll want to see you. She was here, but I made her get some rest."

  
Once John was out of the room, Sherlock lifted a heavy arm and pushed the - button on the morphine control. It was making his brain fuzz.

  
Mary was in the room surprisingly quickly, considering John's average walking rate talking speed and -

  
"Has are you feeling?" She asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

  
"Don’t you start too."

  
"I'll get straight to the point then." Mary sat down. "You saved me. Thank you." She grinned. "And it would have worked, too, if I hadn’t been trying to do the same for you, too." Ah, so that was why he had hit her before he expected.

  
John leant against the doorframe and sighed, smiling a little and shaking his head. Terrible thoughts quickly wiped all traces of merriment from his face.

  
What would have happened if Sherlock had been shot? Norbury was a very good shot. His blood ran cold at the thought. Sherlock wouldn’t be here to tell the tale if that had been the case.

  
What if Mary had managed? What if she had died?

  
John would not ride _that_ train of thought any further.

**Author's Note:**

> If anybody would like to leave comments or Kudos... :}  
> By the way, what do you people think about posting an original work of mine, The Ice Planet? It’s science fantasy. Comment what you think!


End file.
